


A Would-Be Queen

by scalpelink



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scalpelink/pseuds/scalpelink
Summary: Lena's mother is up to something, again, and she wants absolutely nothing to do with it.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	A Would-Be Queen

**Author's Note:**

> This appeared out of nowhere and I'm honestly not sure what the plan was. I was going to keep it to myself but I was pretty much press-ganged into posting it. Hopefully it's enjoyable!
> 
> I'm on tumblr under the same username, if you fancy stopping by.

It was all her mother’s fault, so Lena was content to let the failure belong to her mother, too.

Luthor Hall was bedecked in all its finery. Banners bearing the family crest – the silhouette of a hawk grasping a thrashing snake – tumbled from the vaulted ceilings. The family colours of green and black were everywhere. Six banquet tables groaned under the weight of silverware and truly prodigious amounts of food. The air was thick with sweat and hedonism.

It was a party like no other her family had ever thrown, and they were well known for their excesses. Her mother had invested weeks in making sure everything was just so, on a vain conquest to secure a husband for her daughter. She insisted it was all about furthering her brother’s prospects but Lena was no fool. Her brother Lex had everything a degenerate noble could possibly desire. He furthered the family name by simply existing. He could take a wife when he pleased – and any number of bedfellows until then – and provide an heir to their duchy, without ever being a burden. His usefulness was a foregone conclusion.

Lena, on the other hand, needed to be foisted on the most profitable man that could be had as soon as possible. With the King’s son now of age, it was clear to Lena that her mother was vying for the throne.

Lillian was perched on her grand chair, like a vulture, gainfully tittering at anything the Prince said. Lex was seated to the side of the Prince, just as obvious in his overtures. Lena’s adjacent chair was empty and had been for most of the night.

Every once in a while her mother would look her way. Her intent was obvious but Lena ignored her. It was Lillian that had concocted such a mess and Lena was not going to take the blame when the Prince, clearly more interested in her brother, denied the match.

Lena moved towards one of the balconies that branched off the great hall. Despite it being midwinter, the sheer enormity of the fireplace and the number of people pressed into the hall made the air stifling hot. The chill breeze from outside was as sweet as a summer rain.

After a few more moments of lingering in sight, offering smiles and nods to anyone that caught her eye, Lena ducked behind the drapes and out into the night. The first breath of ice-cold air braced her all the way to her toes.

Her mother’s castle sat atop a small bluff that rose from the belly of a mountain. One side of the building boasted a view of the entire duchy. The other side was naught but mountains and only superstition could say what was on the other side of them.

Lena moved to the balcony’s edge and placed her untouched goblet on the balustrade. Already the wind and cold were raising the fine hairs on arms. In a deep green dress made of silk, she was dressed for nothing but parading before a prince. If not for her cloak, matching green with ermine trim, she would freeze to death, and quickly. She pulled it more fully over her shoulders and let the cares of her world fall away.

From the castle’s entrance, Lena’s gaze followed the cobbled path into the valley. It wound like a river towards the horizon. Villages and towns clustered along its banks. Even from the balcony Lena could see candles flickering inside houses. Lone torches moved through dark fields of maize and the apple orchards for which her family was famed. Strange things plagued her land in the night but a simple torch was enough to drive back the worst of nightmares.

She would miss her home. She had no love for her mother and only mild fondness for her brother, but Lena loved her home. She would miss the people she knew from the villages and she would miss picking apples in the autumn as part of her family’s traditional festival. She would also miss her father’s library and the memories of him that lingered in every room. Yet, nothing she would miss was enough to make her consider staying.

She had decided, long before her mother declared she would marry a prince, that her future lay beyond the borders of the duchy. She planned to apprentice herself at a university. She had secreted enough coin to buy tenure at the great Whitewatch academy, and with some left over to make sure her old life could not follow her.

A coach would be waiting for her at midnight in just three days. She had already waited years but three days seemed intolerably long.

“It’s a beautiful night.”

Lena knocked her goblet off the balcony. Red apple cider slicked the stonework. She flinched again when the clatter of her goblet hitting the floor below echoed along the battlements.

“Forgive me,” the stranger said. “I did not mean to startle you.”

Lena, about to dismiss the intruder, abruptly stopped short. She had a moment to be glad she had already spilled her drink because she fancied she would have dropped it all over again.

The interloper was a woman. She was looking up at the stars in utter wonderment. Her gown of fine, gossamer silk almost blended into the night it was such a deep blue. A white sash draped over her chest crossways. On it was a simple sun insignia, stitched with gold thread.

Lena had just enough wherewithal to curtsey before she was overcome and hotly angry.

“Your Majesty,” Lena said, just about managing to speak past gritted teeth. Her mother would answer for her meddling. Of course she would shamelessly recruit anyone who would divert her attention back to the prince; even if it was the King’s niece.

The Princess – princess in waiting – tore her gaze from the stars. Confusion, then embarrassment, coloured her face.

“Please,” she said. “I’m really not important enough for that. Just a lucky relative,” she said, adding a very unladylike shrug.

Lena frowned. The princess was young, though not as young as the prince. Lena thought they were likely similar in age. She had the regal bearing of someone who had grown up noble; shoulders back, chin high, and a direct, if not somewhat bashful, gaze. Sun-drenched hair fell about her shoulders. She was elegantly tall. Her hands were folded neatly behind her back.

“My name is Kara,” she said. Lena arched a brow when instead of a curtsey, Kara stooped in a graceful bow.

“Lena,” she said. She dropped again into a curtsey, as if she was correcting an uncultured foreigner; women did not bow in her realm. She was ashamed of herself the moment she saw a wry smile break across Kara’s face.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Kara said. She sounded genuine. She looked back up at the stars. “But you can’t see nights so beautiful as this from the palace. Too many lights from the city.”

Lena looked up. The sky was a blanket of glittering light, like the gods had trailed diamond dust as they waltzed across the heavens. She had shared the stars with her father but after his death, they had dulled into nothingness.

“My father used to tell me the names,” Lena said, barely above a whisper. She was surprised she had said it all.

“My father did the same.” Kara said. “He died when I was young but every time I look up to the heavens, I can feel him looking back; safe in the light of the creator.”

“You’re religious,” Lena said. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Most of the kingdom was devout but the more she learned of the world, the more she thought religion foolish. Too often people turned to it for answers, for blame, when they ought look to themselves first. The answers to life were within the reach of mortals, she was sure. Gods and spirits were nothing more than scapegoats.

“Not religious,” Kara said, with no hint of reproach. “Simply faithful.” She looked at the stars again. Memories played across her face, washed pale in moonlight. She seemed to almost forget Lena was there.

Eventually, Kara came down from the skies. “I can see that you value your privacy too much to suffer company. I’ll leave you be.”

Lena flushed. Her manners would give her mother a seizure, and whilst the image was an amusing one, Kara did not deserve to bear the brunt of her ire.

“Please. Wait.” Lena took a deep breath. She pushed her frustration with her mother aside. Kara might not be her kind of society but she could at least be civil for a night. “Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Kara said, easy. Lena almost believed the sincerity. Kara seemed to debate Lena’s request for a few moments, before settling against the balcony. She said nothing else, only smiled, and devoured the countryside in her gaze. She did not push for idle banter. Lena was sure she was sent by her mother but if Kara was not going to push the issue, Lena was not going to make it easy for her.

Lena went back to her fantasy of running away. At Whitewatch she would burry herself in the entirety of mankind’s knowledge and answer the questions burning in her soul. All her life she had asked questions, from the most banal to the philosophical. Why was the sky blue, why did oceans rage but lakes only sighed, and why could she see a candle on the horizon in the dead of night, but not the fine face of a man at a thousand paces?

Her thirst for knowledge soon got the better of her. She knew that Kara was a lure but that did not mean she was immune to it. Her mother had arranged for the Prince to attend the fête but who else was she colluding with?

Kara gave nothing away. She was implacably serene; untouched by the world around her.

“Aren’t you cold?”

If she was startled, Kara did not show it. “Not at all. I’ve always run hot.”

Lena was forced to go back to her own thoughts when Kara offered nothing more. Every few seconds she glanced the other woman’s way. Every time she was simply there. She looked almost vacant but Lena had no doubt she was aware of everything going on around them.

Ready to throw etiquette to the wind, her mother and the King be damned, Lena made to escape. Her solitude was broken. If she entertained the prince for a little while, she might even be able to beg an early retirement. Anything would be better than Kara’s frustrating silence. She could at least say she had tried to show willing.

“He’s not a terrible man,” Kara said. She glanced at Lena. Even in that small moment her gaze was so keen that Lena could not look away. “My cousin,” she clarified. “He’s a good man, even.”

“I’m sure he is,” Lena said, when she could. Kara had eyes the colour of an oncoming hurricane.

“I mean, marrying Kal wouldn’t be awful. He would never dishonour you.”

“I don’t love him,” Lena said. “I don’t even know him.”

“Is there someone else? Someone important?”

Lena frowned. “No. But my lack of attachments doesn’t mean that I’m any more interested in your cousin.”

Kara sighed. “Don’t I know it.”

“You too?”

Kara looked back toward the hall. The drapes hid them from view but sound travelled easily. People were still fully in the throes of celebration. Musicians were warming their instruments, the tune only a murmur under the ruckus. Lena realised that she might have an ally. Someone in the same position as her. She wondered if her mother had been telling the truth about her brother.

“The King has been very good to me. If he wishes me to marry, I will do so without hesitation.”

“We’re people,” Lena said, incensed. Her momentary hope for kinship died. “Not prized breeding heifers.”

“Gosh, you really are like people said.” Kara cracked a smile and at Lena’s brimming anger, erupted into laughter. Lena put her hands on her hips, watching as Kara almost doubled over. She had never met anyone so singularly bizarre in her life.

“Maybe my cousin feels the same,” Kara said, marshalling herself. “That he is a man and would like to be seen as a man, and not just a strutting bull?”

Lena deflated. “You… You’re…”

“I know,” Kara said, beaming. “I know.”

Lena turned back to the vista. She could feel Kara practically fizzing. When she retreated back into the hall, she was a little lost. Kara had been irritating, not to mention rude enough to not even say goodbye, but she was interesting. She wondered if Kara had gone to prostrate herself in front of her mother and brother. Her sense of duty was laudable but it was not something Lena could emulate.

The thought of Kara marrying Lex made her stomach turn.

The curtains billowed open and Kara was back. She had a drink in each hand and offered one to Lena. It was red apple cider.

“I think we should start again,” Kara said. She held up her goblet for a toast. Lena obligingly met her. They exchanged names and house greetings, drinking in unison. The cider was pleasantly warm, settling low in her belly.

Kara leaned toward her, pitching her voice low. Her breath was heavy with wine and it made Lena’s head spin for a moment.

“Lady Alex looks as though she’s going to fall asleep in her food if your brother doesn’t stop boring her.”

They both laughed and it was as if they had been friends all along. They talked readily and easily. Any further awkwardness was smoothed over by alcohol.

Lena forgot that Kara might simply be a spy for her mother, and found someone almost as fervent for knowledge as she was. The only difference was that Kara had found a way to reconcile all her desires, and Lena was still struggling against the system.

They were debating the likelihood of civilisations on the other side of the mountains when Kara abruptly turned. She absently put her drink aside, never looking away from the inky dark below them. Lena, too many ciders down, was too slow to even ask what was going on. She had a second to return Kara’s sudden hold around her waist, before she was yanked from the balcony edge.

A scream rent the dark; something inhuman and deafening. Very few of the night-time denizens were powerful enough to come so close to a building so full of light. Lena thought she saw the flash of sickly-white skin. Foetid air rushed away from powerful wings. Another scream tore the night, this one further away, and then all was quiet again.

Kara’s heart was slow and steady, unlike Lena’s own that was threatening to leap from her chest. Kara held her close, one arm secured around Lena and the other itching at nothing. Lena wobbled, overcome with cider, shock, and Kara’s perfume. She would have fallen without Kara.

“I think it’s okay now,” Kara said, gently. She did not let Lena go, and Lena made no effort to move. She was so warm that Lena could feel it even through her cloak. It was enough to bring colour to her cheeks.

“Kara? What do people really say about me?”

Kara smiled gently. “That you are your own woman.”

Lena sighed. “That’s a very polite way of insulting me.”

“I think,” Kara said, hooking a finger under Lena’s chin, “that you’re remarkable.”

The storm she had seen in Kara’s eyes was now thundering in Lena’s ears. Her hand was shaking as she reached up to touch Kara’s hair. Her other hand was folding into the sash across Kara’s chest and she had no control over the way it was pulling Kara closer.

“How much have you had to drink,” Kara asked, barely whispering. Her breath tasted of wine.

“Not enough. Too much.”

“Lena, I don’t think-”

Kara’s mouth was hot. It slanted against her own in a way that sent riotous shivers all over Lena’s body. Both of Kara’s hands came up to cup her face. She was gentle but urgent and Lena had never been kissed but it was everything she hoped it might be.

She had a few seconds to marvel at Kara’s strength after being picked up and seated on the balcony. Rough stone met her back as was secured in the corner, out of sight. Kara was forced to look up at her. Her eyes were black, the weight of her gaze heavy enough to make Lena tremble.

Morning broke like a clap of thunder. Lena rolled over in bed, buried her face into her feather-down pillow, and groaned. Everything, from her eyebrows to her toes, was screaming. Multiple parts of her body had been removed, turned inside out and badly replaced, she was sure of it.

Between the bellowing headache and the urge to vomit everything she had ever eaten for the past ten years, Lena was vaguely aware of someone in her chambers. She had just enough time to grab her bedsheets before the canopy was roughly pulled back and sunlight streamed in. Agonising, repulsive sunlight.

“You did it,” her mother said. “I have no idea how after such an abominable turn out on your part, but the deal is done.” Lillian was absolutely crowing. “I suppose the way to a man’s heart truly is through his stomach. Gods know that boy ate enough for an army last night.”

Lena tried to curl deeper into her bed. A sour taste was gathering in her mouth. Her mother poked her, like she might a corpse, and Lena swallowed bile.

“Out of bed,” Lillian said. She said something else, no doubt to her chambermaid, but Lena could only hear it as if she was underwater. A second later, another pair of hands was tugging at the bed clothes. She was too weak to hold on to them.

“Oh, stop mewling like a new-born,” Lillian said. “You’re going to be _Queen_.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Lena returned. Her maid was just quick enough to grab a bucket.

The rest of the morning went by in a blur or noise and misery. Lena was pulled and pushed every which way. She was to be presented to the prince and nothing short of perfection would do. She was too invested in controlling any further stomach upsets to really care. A maid mercifully gave her a mug of hot, sweet tea, which she nursed in lieu of saying anything.

In truth, her thoughts were more on Kara than Kal. Much of the night was lost to the hazy glow of overindulgence, but the feel of Kara was burned into Lena’s skin. What had started as awkward and resentful, had ended in a way that Lena could never have imagined.

Kara had kissed her. Her first kiss, and it had ruined her for anything else.

Lillian returned later in the morning. Her previous good mood had been replaced by her usual dour temper. Lena flinched when she railed at a servant too slow leaving the bedroom.

“He’s gone,” Lillian said. “He’s gone, just like that. Something about duty and whatever other nonsense. Gone before he even publicly announced his intentions! Like the Luthor name doesn’t demand the utmost respect.”

Lena rolled her eyes. It would be the family name at stake and not Lena’s honour. Not that she was not relieved to hear the news. If nothing else, the morning had given her time to solidify her plans. There was no way she was marrying Kal; Queendom be damned.

“Instead,” her mother shouted, near foaming at the mouth. “Instead, he leaves his cousin! As if that woman is any kind of-”

“Mother!” Lena took a moment to enjoy Lillian’s shock at being interrupted. “I’m sure he had his reasons. Perhaps I can follow him to the capital in a few days.”

She was going to be long gone before then but Lillian did not need to know that.

“I suppose,” her mother said. “In the meantime, the prince has made arrangements for your safety.”

Lena blinked. “My what?”

“The cousin,” Lillian said, with all the derision she might have for a stray dog. “Haven’t you been listening to me?”

Anything Lena might have said left her in a rush of air. The door to her room opened and Kara walked in. Only, it was not the Kara she remembered from the night before. This Kara was righteous. She was dressed in a form-fitting leather armour. The cuirass was embossed with the royal sun sigil. A sabre was girded at one hip and a dagger at the other. Her hair – hair Lena remembered as thick and soft between her fingers – was tied back in a wrapped plait.

Lena was momentarily struck by how this Kara was imminently more comfortable-looking in armour than she had in a dress.

Kara bowed lowly. “Your Majesty,” she said, mouth fighting a smile. “I have been Kal’s bodyguard since he was a baby. Now that you are to be his wife, there is nothing more precious than your safety. He has asked me to guard you as I have him.

My life is yours.”

The world tipped on its axis. Lena was sure she was going to be sick; again. Her mother faded into the background. Kara surged forward, bracing Lena securely, just as she had the night before. Lena’s skin pulsed with warmth where they touched. Kara’s smile did peculiar things to her insides. Her eyes traitorously went to Kara’s mouth and Lena’s heart kicked out a wild staccato.

It all became clear to Lena then. Kara _had_ been sent to evaluate her as a bride. Only Kara could have turned the debacle of her mother’s party into a marriage proposal. Lena did not know whether to be flattered or furious.

Kara had kissed her, no matter which of them instigated it. She had breathed so heavy in the wake of it, Lena was sure the other woman had been fighting for composure. Had she imagined the way Kara was trembling?

Lena steeled herself. Nothing had to change. She could still run away. She could pretend that Kara did not make her feel simultaneously so alive and yet on the verge of combustion. She did not have to marry Kal and she did not have to have to try to parse Kara’s indifference. 

Only, there was something in the way Kara looked at her…


End file.
